


hope sweet hope (like a star burning bright)

by notveryglittery (tryingthymes)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, M/M, Meddling, Mutual Pining, Present Tense, the royality is bg but roman really does his best to be as loud as possible LMAO, very brief panic at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryingthymes/pseuds/notveryglittery
Summary: logan and virgil are stuck in a forest of pine trees. roman's gonna fix that.(patton's going to be proud of the pun i made in this summary.)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70





	hope sweet hope (like a star burning bright)

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO [CASSIUS](https://lovevirgil.tumblr.com)!!!!  
> for a fic i wrote in less than a day, i'm pretty pleased with the result >:3  
> i hope y'all like this analogical fluff!!

Usually, overstimulation is the least of Virgil’s problems. During the day, it’s paranoia and anxiety; at night, it’s nightmares and thinking too much. Sometimes, he feels too _little_ and he needs heavy reminders that he’s still solid and real. Feeling too _much_ might happen in the middle of a panic attack but at that point, he’s already got so much going on, he barely notices. 

He isn’t even doing anything particularly overwhelming when it hits. He’s just opening a jar of Crofter’s when something crashes above him. The noise is startlingly loud, he’s not sure what it is or where it comes from, and the sound of glass shattering on the floor at his feet doesn’t help. He grabs onto the counter, breaths coming suddenly in short gasps. 

Before Virgil can even think of what to do next, Logan is standing in front of him. He’s taken one of Virgil’s hands in his own and the other is holding his elbow as he guides them towards the small dining table. He's talking, voice low and soothing, but Virgil can’t make any of the words out. Something heavy drops onto his shoulders and despite jolting in surprise at first, the sensation quickly chases away most of his nerves. 

He isn't sure how much time passes before his hands are wrapped around something warm. By now, his surroundings have gone mercifully quiet. Even still, the sound of the faucet turning off makes him flinch; he hadn’t realized the white noise was the water running. Mechanically, he drinks from the mug he’s holding. By the time he’s fully settled back into himself, Logan is sitting at the table with him, going over his agenda. 

“Sorry,” Virgil says automatically. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” Logan reassures him. 

Virgil looks to see that the jam and glass has been cleaned up, as if it never happened at all. He drinks again from his mug but the tea has gone cold. He glances up to the ceiling, trying to figure out what had set him off earlier. 

“It’s the tenants above us,” Logan says, closing his planner. 

Virgil realizes suddenly that Logan is sans scarf. No matter the season, Logan without fail wears his scarf in the dorms. He must be squinting, as if looking for the missing garment, because Logan just smiles. 

“Rock paper scissors to see who has to go talk to them for being too loud?” 

They tie on every match and it’s just more proof to Virgil that they’re meant to be, as stupid as that sounds. Yeah, might as well call Virgil a tree because boy is _pining._ They head out of their room, down the hall, and up the stairs. It’s not hard to find the culprits they’re looking for given that they’re still making quite a lot of noise. 

Before Virgil can prepare himself for confrontation, Logan is knocking on the door. 

The racket stops immediately. A few seconds later, they can hear voices going back and forth. If the students are trying to whisper, they’re failing miserably. 

“ _What if it’s the RA?_ ” one asks. 

“ _Well then we’re in big trouble unless we can hide her somehow!_ ” responds the other in far too hopeful a tone. 

“ _Last time we did that, she knocked over my trophies shelf!_ ”

“ _Yes, honey, I remember, it was barely an hour ago._ ”

Logan and Virgil share a look. 

“We’re not the resident assistant,” Logan says loudly.

The voices quiet again. 

“That sounds exactly like something a resident assistant would say!” the first one calls back.

There's the sound of footsteps approaching and Virgil can only assume they’re using the peephole to see who is at the door. 

“Oh!” 

Several things happen at once. 

The door opens, revealing probably the softest looking individual Virgil has ever seen. Next, a blur of black darts out of the room, at Virgil’s legs, up his torso, and into the fabric wrapped around his shoulders. Finally, someone asks “isn’t that the scarf you wear all the time?” 

“Aw,” coos the one who’d answered the knock. “Pixie likes you!” 

“It is,” Logan replies, clearing his throat. “That is besides the point. Earlier, you made quite a commotion. We’re here to ask if you could refrain from doing so again.” 

“That was _not_ our fault!” exclaims the one wearing a thick maroon sweater that reminds Virgil of the Weasley’s. 

As it is, he’s distracted plenty by the purring kitten curled up in Logan's scarf. That's a question for later, especially because if he starts thinking about how he’s wearing Logan's clothes, he’ll combust. The cat (Pixie?) is warm and soft. Virgil carefully scratches between her ears. 

“Oh, I'm Patton!” says the pastel one. “They/them, please. We’re so sorry if we scared you!” 

“Roman,” grumbles the redhead, “he/him. As I said already, it’s not our fault! Pixie is just… well—” He pauses to gesture at Virgil, who can hardly focus with the way it feels having the kitten rumbling against his chest like a mini-engine. “... Wily.” 

“Gosh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cozy up to someone so fast.” Patton says. It looks like there are stars in their eyes. 

If Virgil were paying any attention, he’d notice Logan's expression looking much the same. He's still pretty out of it, though, and he’s kind of confused right now with the mischievous grin on Roman’s face.

“Come in!” Roman suggests suddenly, wrapping an arm around Patton’s waist and pulling them close to his side. “The least we could do is offer some cocoa!” 

“Roman makes the _best_ hot chocolate,” Patton says, nodding. “Besides, I don't know how easy it’ll be trying to take Pixie from you…”

“Ah, where are my manners,” Logan mutters. “Logan and Virgil, he/him for the both of us. We live just below you.” 

Patton grimaces. “Oh, that must have been so loud… please let us make it up to you?” 

Virgil is stepping into the room before anyone else can speak. He's still pretty transfixed by Pixie, who has started to knead the scarf with her little paws. 

“I suppose we accept, then,” Logan said, sighing in a way that is exasperated and fond all at once. 

Virgil sinks into the loveseat in the living area, careful not to jostle Pixie. Logan hesitates, not finding anywhere else to sit. 

“Apologies,” Roman says, not sounding apologetic at all. He nudges Logan closer to the only available spot. “Patton and I aren't shy about personal space.” 

Logan scowls at Roman, who is grinning cheekily as he joins Patton in the kitchen. Still, he sits down next to Virgil. “She seems quite fond of you.” 

“I love her,” Virgil says, hushed. He's definitely starstruck. 

Logan has no warning, no time to retreat to higher ground, and so the tsunami of affection washes over him without remorse. For a moment, he drowns in his unspoken feelings; the weight of it nearly pushes him under until he has no choice but to let it all spill out, regardless of the consequences. 

“Do you like marshmallows?!” Patton’s voice asks from over his shoulder. 

“Loves ‘em,” Virgil answers for him. “The big ones, if you have those.” 

Logan hopes the blush doesn’t look as obvious as it feels. 

“Do you wanna hold her?” Virgil asks suddenly, turning finally to look at Logan. He reels back, apparently not having realized how close they were sitting. 

“Sure,” Logan says, awkwardly holding his hands out. 

Virgil huffs in that quiet-laugh sort of way Logan likes so much. He takes Logan's wrists and rearranges his position so that his arms are cradled against his chest. Slowly, Virgil removes Pixie from the scarf-nest and into Logan's hold. She snuffles a little before settling in the crook of his elbow. 

“Oh,” Logan whispers. 

“ _Seriously?!_ ” They hear Roman exclaim from the archway into the kitchen. When he notices that they’ve noticed him, he jumps, and disappears from view. 

Still, just because they can’t see him doesn’t mean they can’t hear him. Roman doesn’t really understand what it means to be discreet, unfortunately. 

“ _They’re just making heart eyes at each other!_ ” Roman hisses, sounding agonized. “ _I’ve known them for five minutes and even I can tell that they’re in love!_ ”

Virgil has never felt so hot in his entire life. “Roman, _shh,_ ” Patton hushes him. 

Logan is pretty much frozen. 

Three terribly long minutes pass before Patton comes out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with four mugs on it. “I hope y’all aren’t lactose intolerant! We use milk _and_ creamer so it’s extra smooth.” 

“Hey, how come you recognized Logan's scarf?” Virgil blurts as Roman joins them. 

“Well, he wears it everywhere, doesn’t he?” Roman asks, taking his mug. “At least, I’ve never seen him in the dorm building without it on.” 

“Hence why _everywhere_ isn’t entirely accurate,” Logan corrects, accepting a mug from Patton.

“Still, must mean a lot if you have it on so often. Can’t imagine you’d share it with just anybody.” Roman sips loudly from his mug, holding eye contact with Logan. 

Virgil begrudgingly takes one of the drinks, knowing he can’t possibly enjoy it now that he feels like he’s dying of heatstroke. 

“Well, Virgil isn’t _just_ anybody,” Logan says simply, as if it’s obvious. 

It’s a miracle Virgil doesn’t spill all over the scarf, the stupid comfortable soft thing that means a lot to Logan, which, well, what does it mean that Logan's letting him wear it now? Sure, right after the noise-induced panic attack is all fine and good, but why hasn’t he asked for it back yet? 

“Kiddo, your ‘mallows are melting,” Patton stage-whispers. 

Virgil takes such a big, sudden gulp of hot cocoa that he burns the roof of his mouth. “So how long have you two been roomies?” He rasps.

“Oh!” Patton exclaims, wiggling a little from where they’ve sat criss cross applesauce on the floor. “Well, for forever, really!” 

“We shared a room at an orphanage,” Roman explains. “We were lucky to be adopted by neighbors, who were very kind and let us have sleepovers frequently.” 

“He’s my best friend,” Patton says soppily, blowing a kiss at Roman. 

“And they’re my soulmate,” Roman continues, catching the kiss and pressing it to his heart. 

“Gross,” Virgil responds, sticking his tongue out. 

“That is… something.” Logan says slowly, thoughts very far away as he imagines what it would have been like if he’d been lucky enough to meet Virgil earlier on in life.

“How about you two?” Patton prompts. 

“Met junior year,” Virgil replies, “hit it off pretty quick.”

“When it turned out we had applied for the same colleges, it was clear some things are meant to be.” 

“Did you just use a love song to describe your relationship with Virgil?” Roman asks, delighted.

“What?” 

“ _What?_ ” Virgil echoes. 

“Ro!” Patton scolds, as if this isn’t the first time he’s had to be reprimanded for meddling. 

Roman is grinning like the damn cheshire cat. Virgil is sure he’s as bright as the roses painted red and he’d very much like out of this mad cocoa party, thank you kindly. 

“Well, this was fun,” he says loudly, setting his mug down on the end table. “I'm exhausted, though, good night!” And with that, he gets up (after a moment of struggling, as if the tiny couch is determined to hold him hostage) and heads for the door. 

He can hear Patton scrambling up, as if to follow, but someone else is at his back first. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you both. Please do keep it down in the future.” 

It figures Logan would be the one to follow him out, not because they came here together or because they’re roommates or anything, but because Logan always, without fail, is there to look out for him. Oh god, Virgil is going to _die._

He doesn’t realize he’s running his hands over the scarf until he’s halfway down the staircase where he misses a step and doesn’t catch the railing in time and oh good, he’s really just having the best night, isn’t he— 

A hand catches the back of his sweater and _pulls._

He lands hard, probably bruising his tailbone, but his elbows are caught, and instead of falling back and possibly hitting his head, he lands against something sturdy and warm. He tilts back, looking up, and, oh _good,_ his night is getting better and better— 

“Are you okay?” Logan asks breathlessly. 

“What do you… am _I_... are you serious?” 

“I’m sorry if i’ve made you uncomfortable,” Logan says sincerely, letting go now that Virgil isn’t in danger of getting hurt. Logan even scoots up a step so that Virgil can have his space. Virgil realizes he's no longer carrying Pixie, which should be obvious, but he already kinda misses her.

“L, what are you going on about?” 

“Back there, some of the things I said, they were… I didn’t think them through.” He looks away, reaching towards his neck as if to fidget with something, before he remembers it isn’t there. “It’s important, though, that you… you know that I mean every word, right?” 

Virgil pivots so he’s better facing Logan. They’ve been through a lot but Virgil’s not sure he’s ever seen Logan like… this. Kind of guilty and hesitant… but genuine and determined, too. Virgil just wants to kiss all the uncertainties away and he’s pretty sure that wouldn’t be a bad thing to do given how the last half hour had gone. 

“We have a lot to talk about, huh?” He says with a quiet chuckle.

Logan looks relieved and then, confused— 

“You don’t have to—”

Virgil leans in close as he puts Logan's scarf back on for him. “I think you could use it more right now than me.” 

He stands up, wincing a little, before holding his hands out for Logan to take. He does so and Virgil tries not to blush too hard. “Are we gonna have to thank the noisy drama nerd for pushing us in the right direction?” 

Logan pulls himself up with Virgil’s help. “I believe doing so would inflate his ego quite dangerously. It’s probably best we don’t encourage him.” 

Virgil does a poor job of trying to conceal his laughter. It just makes Logan's stomach flip. He supposes there’s no hope of getting used to that sensation now. Virgil only lets go of one of his hands as he begins to lead the rest of the way downstairs and back to their dorm. Logan can’t seem to keep the smile off of his face, wondering if hand holding will become a new pastime of theirs… he certainly can’t wait to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [notveryglittery](https://notveryglittery.tumblr.com)!


End file.
